


Striptease for Me Baby

by evila_elf



Category: House M.D.
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-09
Updated: 2012-09-09
Packaged: 2017-11-13 22:14:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,898
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/508269
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/evila_elf/pseuds/evila_elf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Wilson puts on a little show for House's birthday.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Striptease for Me Baby

Originally posted on Livejournal June 25, 2006

Note: Written for Michelleann68's birthday. She wanted a story where Wilson strips for House.

 

**Strip Tease for me Baby**

Wilson entered the apartment to the sounds of some classical piece he had heard House play before, name unknown to him. He hadn’t been quiet about his arrival, so he knew House was aware that he was home. He walked up behind him, depositing briefcase on the couch and suit jacket over the chair as he went, then leaned forward and rested his head on House’s shoulder. He felt House lean into the touch, but his playing didn’t falter.

With a barely there caress, Wilson ran a hand down House’s arm, finally getting the other man to pause in his playing before removing his hands from the keys altogether. Wilson smiled, face still against neck, and placed his hand on the piano keys, his other on House’s back. Then he played one of the handfuls of one-fingered tunes he had learned: ‘Happy Birthday, to you. Happy Birthday to you,’ his finger tapped out. ‘Happy Birth--’ The tune was interrupted as his hand was snatched away. Before he knew it, his lips were being crushed by another pair. “You’re welcome,” he breathed when he could, well, breathe again.

Wilson reluctantly pulled away and straightened, as best as he could. “So. What would you like for your birthday?” His eyes were twinkling dangerously. “Birthday spanking? Scaring and scarring of the neighbors?”

House grinned. While each of those sounded like a lovely idea, he had something better. With a wink, he turned back to the piano and rested his hands on the keys briefly before playing a rendition of a classy tune.

“The Stripper?” Wilson couldn’t hold back his amusement.

House closed the cover over the piano keys and swiveled around, then leaned back so his elbows were resting on the cover. He raised his eyebrows and looked expectantly at Wilson.

Wilson briefly rubbed a hand over the side of his face, closing his eyes. He trailed the hand down the side of his nose, over his chin, and down his neck until it rested on his tie. Then he opened his eyes again to find House watching, intently. With slow-motion movements, Wilson loosened the knot of his tie, then pulled the material until the knot disappeared and both ends hung limply. He pulled at the large end and the tie slowly slid from around his neck.

House barely batted an eye as the tie sailed over his shoulder to land against the piano. His heart was racing, though. If he got this worked up over the removal of a tie, would he be able to make it through the whole ‘show’ before he was forced to either embarrass himself or grab Wilson and make a dive for the bedroom?

Wilson cleared his throat, fist against his mouth, before unbuttoning his jeans and slowly, painfully so, lowered the zipper halfway. He tugged his shirt free and set to work on the little buttons, just enough to be able to pull it over his head.

House unconsciously licked his lips as Wilson _finally_ got around to showing him some skin. Wilson’s removed shirt was tossed at his head and he swatted it away from his face before it could block his vision. He didn’t want to miss a thing!

Wilson could see the large bulge in House’s pants. He wondered if it was possible to get the older man to come without even touching him. He decided to try his best to find out! He slowly ran a hand down his shirtless body, dragging his nails over a nipple, groaning a little for show. He lingered his fingers on his abdomen while lowering the zipper the rest of the way with his other hand. With as much as a seductive look as he could manage under the circumstances, he peeled open his jeans and slowly lowered them.

House had to tear his eyes away from Wilson’s tented boxers, a shiver running down to the base of his spine, he looked up into Wilson’s face, which was flushed. With embarrassment or desire, he couldn’t tell.

Sly look upon his face, Wilson hooked his thumbs under his boxers and inched them down…a centimeter at a time.

“Damn it!” House cursed, lunging to an awkward standing position. With a savage growl, he reached out with his cane and hooked Wilson around the neck, pulling him in close.

Wilson stumbled, off balance with his jeans still at his ankles, surprised at how fast the man could move when provoked. Luckily, House’s lips broke his fall. “Mmmph,” he said before pulling himself away. “You interrupted me! No full monty for you!”

“I think you have found your true calling. Bedroom, Stripper Boy!”

Wilson licked at House’s upper lip before giving him a solid kiss, turning, and walking towards the bedroom. He heard House’s unique step a moment later and turned around to meet him as soon as he walked into the room. “Someone is overdressed for the bedroom,” Wilson tsked, eye-raping him.

“You’re the stripper. Going to do something about it?”

Wilson stepped forward and reached past House, closing the bedroom door with a hand and a kick before he pushed House’s back against it.

House dropped his cane when he felt hands slide up under his shirt and put his own hands flat against the door, leaning his head back.

Wilson started lifting up House’s shirt, planting little wet kisses up his stomach as, little by little, skin was revealed. He forced House’s arms up over his head with his shirt and pinned them there with one hand, trapped by the material. Wilson leaned against him and captured House’s mouth with his own, sweat-covered chests pressing and sliding against each other.

With one hand still pinning House’s above his head, Wilson slid his other to House’s pants, teasing the skin just under the band. He popped the button with thumb and forefinger, then unzipped. He dropped House’s hands and dropped to his knees as he lowered the jeans and underwear.

House untangled his hands from his shirt and tossed it somewhere into the dark, then placed the freed hands on Wilson shoulders for balance as he stepped from his pants. He moved his hands up the sides of Wilson’s neck and buried them in his hair.

Wilson ignored the hands as they tried to force him toward House’s crotch, even when the tugging became rather painful. He grabbed House’s wrists and waited for him to let go of his hair, then he stood and took a few steps towards the bed. He turned to find House staring at him, lips parted and eyes glazed. So he stretched himself atop the covers and reached a hand into his boxers, making a show of stroking himself—eyes closed, head back, groaning…When he opened his eyes again, House was next to the bed, seeming to have teleported himself.

House skimmed his hand over Wilson’s underwear, coming to a rest on the hand trapped underneath. Soon, Wilson removed his hand and House could feel just how hard the other man was.

Wilson rolled his hips up, rubbing his hard on against House’s hand like a friendly cat wanting an equally friendly stroke.

“Now who’s overdressed for the bed?”

“Going to do something about it?” Wilson mimicked House’s words from earlier, bucking upwards again as House gave him a soft squeeze.

“But you’re the stripper,” House replied with an equally suggestive look that Wilson closed eyes missed—though his ears did not—and gave one last squeeze before removing his hand.

Wilson was trembling with a little desire and a lot of lust as he arched off the bed to slip his boxers off, freeing his erection. He thought he heard House mutter something about a one-gun salute, so he rolled his head to look at House, who had at some point sprawled out next to him.

“Prepared to take my order? I would like hot steamy sex with a Wilson on top.”

“Would you like fries with that?”

“And I want to see your face.”

“Not with your leg.” Wilson’s voice had turned serious.

“Maybe if I took another Vicodin…”

“No.” Wilson stared up at the ceiling, thinking. Slowly, the gleam returned to his eyes. He leaned over and gave House a quick peck to the lips. “Be right back.” He jumped off the bed and hurried into the bathroom. He returned a moment later to see House propped up on one elbow, waiting. Wilson deposited three items on the bed.

House picked up the condom and tossed it over his shoulder. The lube was fine and he left it alone. Finally, he picked up the…mirror? He stared at his reflection a moment before shifting his eyes to look at Wilson. Realization slowly dawned. “Clever.”

“I try.” He crawled up next to House, grabbing the lube before he accidentally sat on it. “Ass-ume your position,” he whispered.

House rolled his eyes, but didn’t waste any time in shifting his body. He raised the mirror and tilted it so that he could watch Wilson squeeze some lube across his fingers. “I feel like a voyeur,” he said to Wilson’s reflection, and got an eye roll in response.

Wilson had no more than inserted a lubed finger when House reached back and grabbed his hand stilling it. He looked up at House’s eyes in the mirror. “Inside, now,” he was told. He nodded, swallowing and licking his lips as he removed his finger, then spread the rest of the lube over his dick. He gave House a little wink as he scooted closer into position, wrapping a leg across House’s hips for leverage. Then he watched House’s face as he entered him. Watched the unwavering gaze, the parted lips, tongue slightly visible. Deeper, deeper, until they were laying chest to back.

Suddenly it became important, to both men, to keep their eyes locked. Another contest. Determination to see the other orgasm first. They both smiled, eyes narrowing in silent challenge.

Wilson began his rhythm, nice and slow. Out. Pause. In. Pause. He watched House’s eyes slowly lose their focus as he rubbed his cock back and forth against House’s prostate.

House blinked several times, swallowing. “Faster,” he breathed, the pace beginning to slowly drive him insane.

Wilson kept the pace slow, then gradually increased until he was slamming in and out of House’s ass. He reached over and wrapped his slender fingers around House’s dick, giving it a firm squeeze before pumping it in time with his thrusts. House was close, he had to be, but so was Wilson. Wilson blinked his eyes back into focus and noticed House was smirking at him. He then felt a tightening around his cock. “You bastard,” he moaned, unable to keep his orgasm at bay any longer. He closed his eyes, grunting, and rested his forehead against House’s shoulder, panting.

House followed seconds later, the mirror falling forgotten from his fingertips.

It was over a minute before Wilson finally pulled himself out, allowing House to roll over onto his back. Wilson covered House’s chest with his body, nuzzling into the crook of House’s neck. “Happy Birthday,” he whispered.

House ran his fingers over Wilson’s ass, and squeezed lightly. “It was.”

 

Inspired by:  
Striptease by Hawksley Workman


End file.
